Loving You Differently

Two

Aria Adkins

Instead of shattering glass, the repetitive pounding of fists against my bedroom door is what wakes me from my early morning slumber. I groggily lift my head and fight the urge to scream.

"What?" I groan.

Silence.

I shove my face back into my pillow and wait.

One.
Two.
Three.

The pounding continues. Pissed, I throw myself out of bed, unlock the door, and fling it open.

"What?!" I scream.

Mom takes a step back and runs a hand through her tangled greying hair, pausing before muttering a quiet, "Dina's on her way to get me. I need some money."

Oh, what the fuck. The first words she's spoken to me in days and of course it's to borrow money.

"No," I grit out. I clench my hands around the door frame and take a deep breath, so full of anger.

Instead of walking away, mom decides that if I won't give her the money, she'll get it for herself. She tries to shove me backwards into my room, eyes zeroed in on the wallet sitting on top of my bedside table.

I stay still and dig the heels of my feet into the ugly maroon carpet below. When she shoves me again and I don't budge, she gets angry.

"Get out of my fucking way! This is my fucking house!" she screams, pushing roughly at my chest.

I stay quiet, knowing that if I open my mouth right now I'll only piss her off further.

This is one of those times where I hate that we're so much alike. Both so stubborn, so bitter. So full of anger, all the goddamn time.

Luckily, Savannah makes her way down the hall, ready to intervene. She's dressed and ready for school in a simple sweatshirt and pair of ripped jeans, dark brown locks pulled into a messy ponytail and face bare of any makeup. I eye the wad of bills clutched tightly in her palms and force myself to stare at a random spot on the wall above her head.

The cash successfully deters mom and once she has it in her grip, she wastes no time in making her way down the hall. Savannah and I stay quiet as we wait for the front door to slam.

A tight ball of anxiety builds in my chest and I swallow harshly. "What time is it?" I rasp. I lean my head against the door frame and take a deep breath. In, out.

Sav sighs and wrings her hands together, "Seven fifteen. I need to leave soon or I'll miss the bus."

Its quiet for a split second before she speaks again. Her voice is soft, almost nervous, "Can I borrow some lunch money?"

"Obviously," I laugh softly and step back into my room, reaching for the wallet mom was trying to steal. I pull out a few bills and shove them into her hands, trying to ignore the heavy weight of guilt that crawls up my throat. She shouldn't be scared to ask for lunch money, and I feel so fucking guilty that she has to even ask in the first place.

She deserves the goddamn world and I so badly wish that I could give it to her.

She's quiet as we pad down the hall. The house is messy and so quiet its almost deafening. I lean against the kitchen counter and watch as Sav shoves loose papers into her backpack, zips it up, and throws it over one shoulder.